Page 724 of The Tempted

“Always a pleasure, Brantley,” I taunt before following my men.

“I’d sleep with one eye open if I were you, Petra,” Brantley calls out.

“I already do,” I reply, not bothering to turn around. I reach into my jeans and grab my phone, dial Cobra and order him to bring the cage around to the front of the station. My eyes fixate on the back of Ronan’s head as I wonder what this little shit knows, if anything at all.

Wolf grabs two handfuls of paperwork off one of the detective’s desks and throws it up in the air like confetti before we step outside.

“Did you have to?” I grunt.

“Yes, of course,” he insists. “Now let’s get the fuck out of here—” His words cut off as he collides with Riggs.

“Fucking shit! Why’d you stop walking?” Riggs questions Ronan, but the fucker was paralyzed, looking like he saw a ghost. I step around Wolf and Riggs to study Ronan’s face and follow his eyes across the parking lot to where Jack was pulling off his helmet.

Jack strode across the gravel toward the biker I was sure we’d never see again. Charlie Teardrops was one of the few surviving members of the Corrupt Bastards. After I was released from prison, Jack and I found retribution on the fucking club that sent Brandon after Lacey. We slaughtered those fucks, including their president, Boots. Charlie wore the teardrops tattooed to his face as proudly as he wore his cut. Those teardrops symbolized the murders he committed for the patch he wore on his back.

Charlie averted his eyes to me before he looked over my shoulder, causing me to turn and watch as Ronan tried to make a run for it. Quickly, I grab him by the back of his neck and whisper against his ear as I lean over his shoulder.

“You wanted to talk, spook, we’re going to talk,” I promise.

Cobra pulls the van up in front of us and Pipe opens the back doors. I eye Riggs, wait for his nod before he grabs Ronan’s arms and pulls it back igniting a shriek from the man before he throws him into the back of the van.

“You’re mine fuck-face,” Riggs declares, climbing in behind him. Once the boys were in the back of the van, I shut the doors and smack the side of the van giving Cobra the okay to get out of here. The van peels away as my boots pound the gravel and I make my way next to Jack catching the tail end of their conversation.

“You miscalculated, Parrish, by assuming my club was dead in the water. The Corrupt Bastards are very much alive, stronger than before and deadlier than ever. I hope your boys enjoyed their time with the NYPD.”

“Watch who you’re threatening, Charlie,” Jack seethed. “Remember what happened the last time the Corrupt Bastards threatened the Satan’s Knights.”

“Not a threat,” he said, lighting up a smoke. “I’m just giving you fair warning I want control over the docks and will stop at nothing to get it. Now that Pastore is up the river, the way I see it you can either relinquish your control or I can take it from you.”

“Why in the Devil’s names would I do that?”

Charlie took a drag of his cigarette before flashing a cocky grin toward Jack.

“I have resources bigger than you and your mob friend, Parrish,” he says pointedly.

Jack steps closer to him, takes the cigarette out of his hand and glides the glowing tip to Charlie’s face, stopping just before the cigarette meets his cheek.

“I always admired the ink on your face, maybe when I pull the breath from your lungs I’ll mark my face just as you did.”

Charlie shakes his head unfazed by Jack’s words as he stares back at me.

“Your days as the ‘Bulldog’ are numbered, going to turn your ass into dog meat.”

“You and what army?” Jack sneers, flicking the ashes onto Charlie’s lap before letting the butt fall to the ground. He crushes it with his boot before turning around to face me as he dismisses Charlie. “We all good?” he questioned me.

I nod my head before watching Charlie tip his chin to someone standing behind me. I didn’t give into him, knowing well enough he was provoking me and focused on my president.

“Always, brother,” I answer.

Jack nods before turning back to walk to his bike and I take that as my cue to do the same. I catch a glimpse of Brantley standing on top of the steps of the station staring back at us. Charlie revs his engine and speeds out of the parking lot, saluting Brantley as he drives past him.

“Didn’t see that one coming,” Jack comments as he fits his fingerless gloves to his hands.

Yeah.

Me either.

But then again we never usually see the mayhem; that shit creeps up on us time after time and bites us in the ass.

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